Sherlock's Guinea Pig
by junejuly15
Summary: Sherlock/Molly. Sherlock is working on a series of experiments, his chosen test object being Molly Hooper, the lab assistant. But somehow Molly manages to turn the tables this time...Humour/Romance, one-sided!


Sherlock uses Molly as his guinea-pig trying to find out how she deals with enticement and disappointment. But he is in for a surprise…

Enjoy reading!

Obviously I don't own anything…

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><p><strong>Sherlock's Guinea-Pig<strong>

Sherlock had been thinking about this for a while. The idea had formed slowly in his mind, nestled there, had grown. He had started a few half-hearted attempts, collected some data. Unusable data though, because he hadn't recorded it as meticulously as scientific etiquette would require. It wasn't valid as long as his hypothesis hadn't been proven in a series of experiments.

Actually it wasn't any groundbreaking new theory he was working on (certainly not for the rest of the world), just something he wanted to know. This was the reason it had started at all. He had realized, if he was honest with himself, that here was an area he wasn't an expert in; in fact it was something he felt astoundingly virginal about. And he certainly couldn't discuss it with John. Sherlock had the distinct feeling that John wouldn't approve.

So now he was getting ready for this series of experiments. He bought a nice new notebook, leather-bound, worked out the ideal setting, looked for a suitable test object and phrased his hypothesis. He had to wait a few more days before he could actually start because his chosen test object wasn't available. Finally everything was set. The experiment was ready to be carried out.

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><p><strong>PHASE 1 (Tuesday, 24 June, 4pm):<strong>

**Setting: St Bart's, mortuary. Test object: Lab assistant Molly Hooper. Needs to be caught off-guard in her professional habitat. **

**Hypothesis: Human actions/reactions are always predictable. There are typical human/female reactions to enticement/hope/refusal/disappointment. Additional aim: Study of coping tactics.**

Sherlock entered the mortuary. Molly, the lab assistant was there, as expected, busy with a post mortem. Sherlock approached, trying not to frighten her and said in friendly voice "Molly, there you are! I must say you look refreshed. Good holiday, was it? - Got a suntan, too. Suits you really well"

Molly looked up from the corpse she was working on "Th-thank you," she stammered, rattled by the compliment.

_**Note**__: Faint stutter. Blush slowly rising, more pronounced on her right cheek. Surprised. Can't keep eye-contact._

"Well, Malta was actually quite lovely," Molly added, slightly confused. She still held the scalpel she had been using to inflict the Y-incision on the corpse. "Um … lots of old stones … Saw some nasty road accidents, you would've liked it. A lot of work there for a lab assistant."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed_. Unexpected answer. Short personal information, rather feeble attempt of a joke. Immediate retreat onto professional/semi-professional ground. Probably to hide insecurity._

Molly noisily cleared her throat and started stepping from one foot onto the other as if her body couldn't keep still in his presence. She put down the scalpel on the tray next to the stretcher.

_Feels uncomfortable. Feels need to move. Let's give her a short reply, no need to help her out yet_.

"Really?" Sherlock simply said.

_What will come next? Will she open up? Become more personal? _Sherlock waited_ - Nothing - Interesting! Only silence - and a rather awkward one._

Molly finally broke it: "Well, Sherlock?" - Sherlock didn't reply - "If you don't need me? You see, I've got some work that needs to be done. Quite a backlog, you know." She motioned vaguely with her hands to the corpse then hesitated again, obviously willing Sherlock to respond.

_**Note**__: No opening up, she stays on safe professional ground - She's waiting for something, can't endure the silence for long though. She obviously can't assess the situation - So, time to give her more to think about; time for a new tactic._

"Molly, I was wondering" - He got her attention now – "You know that I come round here quite often, that we see rather a lot of each other"

Molly visibly perked up at that. But then she went over to the sink to wash her hands, maybe to buy some time or to collect her thoughts. She dried her hands on a paper-towel and turned back to Sherlock. "Yes?"

Sherlock, who had waited patiently, continued "You're always so kind and you're always willing to help. And you really do help me. Both professionally and as a person. I very much appreciate that. But I have a feeling that I really don't know much about you." She was following his words attentively, looking directly into his eyes. "That's why I wanted to ask you something."

_Eyes widening. Flush considerably deepening on both cheeks. Pulse quickening. Nervous fingers fiddling with the wet paper-towel._

"Molly, would you be willing to spare some time for me?"

"Of course," Molly blurted out, faintly breathless.

_**Note**__: Very quick answer. As if she had been waiting for this kind of conversation. Quivering voice. Breathlessness. Quite what was to be expected._

"How about a cup of coffee and some cake? My treat," Sherlock said, trying to inject some warmth into his voice. Molly fairly lit up "Lovely. When?" She threw the remnants of the paper-towel she had been torturing into the bin and took a few eager steps towards Sherlock.

_Answer like a shot. Slight perspiration on her forehead. Sparkling eyes. Moves a little towards me - Got her! Time to put it up a notch._

Sherlock slowly and deliberately walked up to Molly so that he stood only a very short arm's length from her. He was silent and looked at her intently. Then he said: "What about today right after work? In an hour if that suits you?"

"Wonderful," was all Molly managed.

_Pronounced blush on both cheeks. Excitement in her voice. Expectation, but also tension. Interesting._

Sherlock slowly leaned down to Molly, coming very close to her face "I'm very much looking forward to it, Molly," he said in a low and quiet voice.

"Me too," Molly whispered, trying hard to refrain herself from touching Sherlock's face. She couldn't help thinking: _What is he up to?_ - Sherlock smiled at her and left the mortuary leaving Molly behind with very ambivalent feelings.

_**Note**__: That went well. I got all the expected reactions. I'll give it twenty minutes then I will cancel it. Time to find out how she deals with refusal and disappointment._

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><p><strong>(Tuesday, 4.30<strong>**. Setting: St. Bart's, mortuary. Test object: as above)**

Sherlock stormed into the mortuary and stopped in front of Molly who was busy with the final stages of the post mortem. She looked up at him expectantly. Sherlock adopted a look of real regret and breathlessly said "Molly, I'm terribly sorry. Something came up, got to dash. See you tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," Molly muttered, disappointment only too obvious in those two little words.

_She deflates like a balloon. Her right eye twitches for a second. The blood leaves her face. Her shoulders sag. Looks as if her spirit has left her_.

"If it's something important, of course I understand," Molly quietly said. She looked stricken, utterly disappointed. Her posture spoke of defeat. But then she straightened up a bit, looked him in the eyes.

_She tries getting a grip. Doesn't want to show her disappointment too obviously. Oh, what the hell. Let's give her a little something_. _See how she reacts to that._

"Look Molly, there's always another time," Sherlock said, slightly touching her left cheek. She leaned into his touch like an eager little kitten, wanting to be caressed - For a moment she was silent again.

"Yes, certainly," she finally said "you know where to find me," and turned away from him.

_She turns away. Why? Trying to hide her face? Tears?_

"I call you" Sherlock added. He winced inwardly._ Oh no, there was really no need to utter such a cliché_. He turned on his heels and left Molly standing there.

_**Note**__: Again, reactions quite as expected. Object showed an almost willing acceptance of rejection, no anger visible. Thankful for a little light touch. Also very clear bodily signs of disappointment: Paleness, sagging shoulders, avoiding eye-contact, possibly tears. Conclusion: Experiment goes as expected. Start next phase._

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><p><strong>Phase 2 (Wednesday, 1 July, 8am):<strong>

**Setting****: St. Bart's, mortuary. Test object at work. Aims: Inflict emotional pain. Study coping tactics.**

For the next days, Sherlock studiously avoided bumping into Molly by accident; in fact he avoided St. Bart's altogether. So it was over a week later that he entered the mortuary again.

He saw Molly in the back of the tiled room, busy with something he couldn't quite make out. He walked up to her and demanded without a word of greeting. "Molly, I need a fresh corpse to test the coagulation of blood after death. Got someone in for me?" - He was cold, businesslike. Not referring to the intimacy established over a week ago. He was keeping a distance, physically and emotionally, but noticing all her reactions.

_Test object looks surprised, very pale underneath the blushing cheeks. Tired, angry, disappointed? _

Molly turned to fully face him; she appeared startled"Sherlock, I haven't seen you for a while."_ Hope in her voice, trying to connect ._

"I was busy. Now what about a fresh corpse?" Sherlock, again coldly, replied.

_Need to smash her hopes. See if she perseveres._

"Sherlock ..." she started, but then stopped herself - She looked down, studying her small hands for a moment, then looked up at him again and said "Well … there is a man, just in. 53 years old, natural causes. You can use him."

_Her mind is racing; it's so obvious on her face. Pupils are dilating, a flush rising in her cheeks. Interesting, she really flushes a lot, must be a distinct female reaction. John rarely flushes. I wonder whether she will dare hinting at last week._

"Sherlock," she started again. She began kneading her hands nervously. "I was wondering about that coffee you offered last week."

_Brave girl; on you go_.

"Hmm?" Sherlock said, taking a step to the side and pretending to be occupied with something on the wall behind Molly. "Well, you know … I just thought … we … maybe we could make it lunch or … dinner?"

_High level of nervousness. But I have to grant her my respect. Not deflated at all, attacking instead - It's no use, though, I need to know. Now is the time to give her the deathblow._

Sherlock turned his gaze back to Molly and brusquely said: "Sorry. Haven't got a spare minute on my hands. Now, what about the corpse you mentioned?" Thus waving her hopes away like a fly that bothered him. Molly started as if she had been hit, tears coming to her eyes.

_Note: Look, now she's really crying. That is her reaction to refusal. Very predictable. She can't make out what is going to happen next. After this hot/cold bath I immersed her in. I wonder how much longer she is going to keep up. Time to start the final phase._

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><p><strong>Phase 3 (Sunday, 5 July):<strong>

**Setting****: St Bart's, mortuary, Test object: as above. Final phase**

"Molly?"- Sherlock walked along the corridors of St Bart's, looking for the lab assistant - _Where is she? I can't find her anywhere. _

Sherlock had already checked the staff room, the cafeteria, the mortuary and was now on his way to the labs. _She must be somewhere. I need to start the next phase. I think she'll be ready for it now. I really shouldn't be postponing it. But where is she? _- Sherlock opened a few more doors, peering inside the rooms, but no luck. Molly was nowhere to be found.

_Well, no use running around like a guinea-pig in a wheel, I'll just work in the lab, she'll come by eventually. _

He went up to the third floor, to the lab he usually worked in. He left his coat and scarf outside in the little anteroom. Grabbing a cup of coffee he went in. He walked up to the desk with the microscope and stood with his back to the door, trying to concentrate, but he was distracted, restless.

_That's astonishing - Quite unexpected. She knows that I'm here, working. She hasn't stopped by to ask if I need anything - coffee, pens, a corpse_.

Sherlock was irritated and tried to occupy his hands and mind while waiting. He tinkered about with some experiments, traipsed around the lab, started several things, checked test tubes with chemical reactions, but his heart wasn't in it. He couldn't bring his ongoing experiment to a conclusion and that seemed to annoy him more than he thought possible. He returned to the microscope and kept staring at a slide showing some pollen or something else he didn't really care about. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the door silently opening and closing again.

"There you are, Sherlock," someone said suddenly very close to his right ear. He spun around, startled and looked straight into Molly's face. She was only inches away from him. Very close. He could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her body. He could see all the little dark freckles on the bridge of her nose. Sherlock immediately felt uncomfortable and tried to wiggle away a few more inches. Impossible - _She trapped me, _he thought_. How did that happen? _

"Sherlock! You know, I've been looking everywhere for you," Molly said. S_he's lying, why does she do that? She must know that I was here all the time_.

"I see," Sherlock stammered. Molly didn't budge an inch and continued in a low, and to Sherlock's amazement, seductive voice. "I've been thinking about us…" - _Us?_ - Sherlock thought, panic rising in his chest. But he couldn't think of anything to say. His mind was a blank. All he could do was to stare at Molly's face.

"Sherlock, I've been thinking about us for quite a while now. I know that you more than like me, although you're always so shy about it. But the way you look at me, compliment me. All the others have noticed it as well - Sweet, really"- Molly paused, Sherlock stared.

"I mean you must certainly know that I'm in love with you? You must have noticed how much I admire your work, your sharpness? And you are such a sweet man, so innocent. So, what do you say - Shall we give it a go?"

Sherlock's mouth fell open, for once he was speechless. Molly moved even closer to him. Her face was now _very_ close to his. She looked into his piercing grey eyes. She couldn't quite read them. She saw surprise, but also fear. Sherlock had nowhere to go; he was trapped between the desk and Molly's body in a very intimate proximity. Sweat broke out on his brow, his heart started racing. He didn't know what to think or how to react.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You've gone very pale suddenly," Molly looked at him, seemingly very concerned. "Oh, look at you. My poor, poor lamb. My little darling - come, let me soothe you," she whispered.

She weaved her fingers through his dark curls, moving down the temples, slowly tracing his cheekbones with her fingertips and then kissed him full on the lips. Sherlock's eyes widened in shock, he didn't respond at all. His body went rigid and he stopped breathing for a moment. With a brisk movement, he broke away from the kiss, brushed past Molly and stormed out of the lab.

Molly stared after him. Then she straightened her back. She looked satisfied and a smile played around her lips."Got you!" she said, smoothing down her lab coat that had become a little rumpled during the last few minutes.

Slowly and with a spring in her step she walked up to the door. She made sure that all the lights were switched off and left the lab.

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><p><strong>AN** I hope you liked it! Reviews would be lovely


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